Dragon Age: Trials of the Wardens
by Immortal13100
Summary: The Grey Wardens are about to recieve eight new recruits, including a chemical genius, a gifted strategist, a master thief, and a mysterious man without a past who has a way with words...thrown into a Blight, they will need every possible resource and ally to save Ferelden. But will their actions benefit or hinder their cause?
1. Chapter 1

_**The Duster & The Giant**_

_**(My second story. Until my first is complete, this will only be released once a week. Bi-weekly if there are issues. This WILL be a crossover, however, at it's heart, it is a Dragon Age fan fiction. Feel free to leave a review, all feedback is good feedback.)**_

Hel was doing her work at a steady pace, carefully placing the fruits of her labor in a box marked "lichen bread". Of course that wasn't really in there: the Carta wouldn't waste someone simply on baking. Hel was a capable fighter, but what the Carta, specifically Beraht, valued her for was her ability to make explosives: fire bombs, acid flasks, anything that could ruin a day for someone. She was paid nicely for her work, and add that to Rica's noble hunting...she scoffed. Her sister shouldn't have had to play whore for Beraht. Ancestors, how she hated the man.

"Hey salroka, hows your tinkering going for you? Easier than mugging I'd guess," said a familiar voice from behind her. Hel turned to see her only friend in the world: Leske, her childhood friend. His dark skin and dark cornrowed hair blended in perfectly to their cavernous surrounding.

"Fine, nug humper," she said quietly, a little tired from her long work hours.

"Well, glad to hear," he said. "Your 'bread' has saved me many times."

"Damn, now you're making me regret my work," she said, chuckling. She and Leske had a sick sense of humor. It was one of many bonding points for them. Their other common interests included lock picking, nug wrangling, and scrapping with other thugs to practice their skills.

"Well, Beraht told me to tell you that you have a shipment of fire crystals coming in soon," he said. He was on his way out, but then turned to say "Oh, almost forgot. Beraht' going to have an old fashioned job for us two soon. Bashing heads, just like old times." The massive grin on his face showed how excited he was.

"Good," Hel said as she corked her last bottle. "Gives me more practice. Time to test new formulas."

He waved then left. Hel turned to the water basin to wash herself of the soot and chemicals that she was currently coated in. When she was done, she was staring at a young, pale woman with black hair and pale blue eyes. Those eyes had seen things nobody ever needed to see. She looked down at her hands. They did things no one should ever do. She clenched them. In order to survive, they'd need to continue their horrible work.

She walked out of the store house, and looked up to the cavern's ceiling. After all, she was casteless. There was no escape of this life for her. All she could do was get used to it. Sighing, she was about to begin her way home, then she noticed a silhouette slumped against the side of the building. Curious, she took a step closer to examen. What she saw shocked her.

At first, she thought it was a qunari. Beraht hired a few Tal Vashoth on occasion. But this person seemed a little thinner than a the sullen men from Par Vollen. Then, she realized: It was a human! The man had to be 6 1/2 feet tall! At his side was a sword that appeared almost as tall as him. The armor he wore, a metallic heavy armor that appeared to be modeled on some surface creature, seemed equally interesting. His brown hair was cut a little short, and he bore stubble rather than a bear. Hel leaned in to check on him, only for him to open his eyes and look at Hel.  
"Ugh...where am I?" Eyes as pale as ice crystals, almost white, stared back at Hel. His voice practically rumbled with power, with some distinct guttural accent that she couldn't place. Then again, she'd never heard a surfacer's accents.  
"Orzammar. Who are you?"  
"Call me Ulf" said the giant, now standing, and towering over the dwarf. He looked confused. Almost as if she never heard of Orzammar. The look he was giving Hel made her think he'd never seen a dwarf.  
"Well Ulf, why don't you come home with me? My mother may be a useless drunk, but she makes a good nug roast," said Hel. "Besides, you clearly don't know how you got here. Perhaps we can find out what happened?"  
Something seemed weird about the man, but she didn't care. She obviously wasn't some random footpad, so she was trustworthy, or more so than most of her associates at least. Maybe this giant was her chance at getting rid of Beraht...


	2. Chapter 2

_**The Noble's Toy**_

_**(Sorry for delay, personal drama. Not mine, Bioware's property.)  
**_  
Prince Jorgen Aeducan hurried along the palace, at a brisk pace. Not that he was forbidden from visiting the Smiths, he just preferred to not hear Trian's complaints about his duty. He loved his older brother dearly, but Ancestors, the man could talk a bronto to death. Besides, Jorgen preferred slumming with Smiths and Warriors to dining with the Nobles. Once he even snuck out to Dust Town with Gorim. Not exactly the smartest thing he could have done, but hey, you only live once. He scowled upon remembering some Noble idiot, barely in his teens, shorten it in some idiotic way.

He rounded the corner of the hall and walked into the palace's forge. There he found his favorite smith, Frea, drawing out schematics.

"Frea, how are you today?"

She turned to see the prince standing there. She smiled. She enjoyed the company of both the laid back noble and his warrior friend Gorim, although the second was not there at the moment. She'd be a liar to say that he wasn't handsome either. Neck length brown hair, warm brown eyes, and stubble that added a certain ruggedness to his allure.

"My lord, I have the 'prototype' you requested," she said, putting away her current work. She then produced a box and handed it to him. It was heavy, and he could only smile. He opened the crate and retrieved it's contents: one crossbow that he designed for use of the sentries and patrols of his new command. He read much of how surfacers used marksmen to assist in combat, and he felt he needed to implement that. He then decided to improve the concept: his design was a repeating crossbow that contained what he called a "bolt box" that contained 5 bolts for the bow, a crank that allowed for the string to be pulled back faster and without lowering the bow, a stock that was ergonomically shaped for a dwarf's body, and a prominent bayonet on the end that could be detached for use as a dagger.

Jorgen could only smile as he looked at his new toy. Frea loved seeing him like this. He truly was like a child at times. However, out of the three Aeducan's, he was the most likable. By a long shot. Ironic, due to his new toy. As he slung it over his shoulder, he turned to leave. He thought, then turned around.

"Have you reconsidered?"

She knew exactly what he meant. He made an...offer that would allow her to rise from her Caste. It wasn't lust that drove him, not entirely anyway. He was so lonely, never being able to relate to the Nobles, and never being allowed near lower Castes for long. Although he wasn't naive enough to ignore the fact he was also a man.

"I shall consider it, my lord," she said. All he could do was nod and exit. His life wasn't an easy one. Little did they know it was about to get so much harder.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three: Preparations

_**(Not mine. Property of Bioware. Only OCs are mine.)  
**_  
Helen Surana was busy preparing for the upcoming Harrowing when she heard news of a Grey Warden coming to the tower, seeking mages for the upcoming Blight. She thought it an interesting bit of information, but not more so than the dual Harrowing.

One if the participants was John Amell, the adopted son of Greagor. The adolescent was actually training to be a Templar before his magical prowess was shown. His rigid discipline never left, and the devout Andrastian was amongst the most trusted of the Circle's occupants, even before becoming a full member. Then, there was Sheo.

The young woman came in roughly a month before, and couldn't make a coherent sentence that wasn't about cheese or entrails. But there were two things about the insane youth. Firstly, her magic was unique. She seemed to be a bottomless pit of magical energy, not to mention her sheer destructive power. Then, there was the fact she was completely immune to the Templars' ability to "smite" a mage's powers. She only came along because, as she said, "Answers are only found when they are being sought. Especially when cheese is involved."

She was positive that those two would be taken in the Wardens immediately. She looked in her mirror and judged herself. Her tanned skin contrasted the paleness of a stereotypical elf's, and her violet eyes shone noticeably against her skin. Raven black hair was tied in buns, and a trace of makeup certainly made her an attractive woman. But that was the issue: people only saw her as a girly girl, not a mage. And to be fair, her capabilities in most magical schools were only so-so. Her greatest gift was actually herbalism, although she could cast a decent entropy spell when needed. She was roaming the halls, looking for ways to make herself useful. Rounding the corner, she ran smack into one of the upcoming Harrowing participants.

"Why hello, Surana," said John in a rather friendly manner. He showed a slight smile, as if he was genuinely happy to see her. To a degree, it was true. Though not a powerhouse in herself, she was a gifted teacher. She helped tutor him in healing spells and entropy, although it was unlikely he'd ever need them. He once was allowed to spar with newer Templars, for "old time's sake," as Greagor and Irving phrased it. He defeated three recruits in less than two minutes. Rumor was that Irving and Greagor had a special sword made for Amell, one that could be used as a conduit for magic as well as a blade. "Pleasure to see you you on the apprentice floor. How are you?"

"Fine thanks. You happened to see Sheo recently? I haven't seen her," Helen asked hopefully. The weird mage was a point of curiosity for her, and she hoped to converse with her. The former Kirkwaller was one of two to befriend the insane mage. The other was Jowan, and something about him set off alarm bells in her head.

"No, sorry," he said. "But if I do then I will be sure to tell her to find you."

Helen thanked him then went in her way. As she thought only moments before, she had much work to do.


End file.
